Strange Sights in a Government Office
by editor frog
Summary: My third entry for Bad Fic '09. When the BAU goes wild with their work clothes, who will end up in the strangest clothing choice in the office?


**My third entry in the Bad Fic contest. (I should be _so_ shot for this.) Hope you, erm, enjoy! [Usual disclaimers.]**

* * *

"What the hell?"

"Um…"

The entire bullpen was buzzing, and for the first time it wasn't over some crazed unsub or mysterious person wreaking havoc on some unsuspecting community somewhere between the redwoods and the Gulf Stream waters.

"I, ah, heard of 'taking liberties,' but…"

"Gotta say, that's brave."

The men and woman of the BAU had decided to 'let their hair down,' as Garcia so aptly put it, and come in to the office one summer Friday wearing the craziest outfit they could think of. The challenge had led some of the staff to get quite creative, to say the least. There were vampires and scarecrows and various popular characters floating around, to be sure, but some outfits were, well…_unique._

"Please tell me I didn't just see that."

"Whoa! I guess I would have never…"

Even some of the more well-traveled profilers were taking the day to let loose a little, reasoning that their ready-bags were well stocked for a quick change should a case happen to turn up. To that end, Emily had come into the office wearing what looked like a cross between a dominatrix's outfit and a see-through cotton jersey, muddling the line between dominance and innocence.

"Emily, I had no idea," Morgan teased as he passed her desk. "Something you're not telling us?"

The woman just smiled and continued with her paperwork. "Oh, trust me," she said. "_This_ is not the weirdest outfit here today, believe me."

"Really?"

"Mm-hmm."

Curious, Morgan began scanning around the bullpen. He'd gotten in late—his alarm had been set to go off at 6pm rather than 6_am_—and had narrowly missed a lecture from Hotch on tardiness. "What, Hotch come in wearing fatigues or something?"

"Oh, if only."

"Hey, glad you could make it," a voice teased as Morgan looked towards the corner desk. The older profiler was amazed to see Spencer Reid wearing what had to be the craziest thing he'd ever seen.

"Reid, man, what the hell…?"

"This is what happens if Dracula, the Wolfman, Frankenstein's monster, the Creature from the Black Lagoon and a tree frog were to be related along genealogical lines." Reid half-walked, half waddled to his desk, carrying a large cup of coffee and settling down to work on his own files. "But it's not the weirdest thing I've seen someone wear today."

Morgan goggled. "_That's_ not weird?! I mean, you've got fangs and scales and giant metal things comin' out your neck…"

"Nope. Not the strangest."

Shaking his head, Morgan continued his search for what was the strangest outfit, laughing a little as he saw two giant lobsters come walking in the room. One of the lobsters had a polka-dotted collar around its neck and gold sparkly shoes coming out the 'tail' portion.

"Baby girl, I didn't think you…"

"Yeah, you like?" Garcia said, wriggling around in her lobster costume. She pointed towards the other lobster, which looked very much like Kevin Lynch with a painted face inside a similar suit. "We decided to come as a set."

"I have to say, Garcia, I never thought I'd be happier to see talking seafood."

"Aw, you're sweet. But where's yours?" the technical analyst asked, noticing that Morgan was wearing his usual work clothes.

"Me and my alarm are fighting again," Morgan replied simply. "It decided to play dirty this morning, and I was late."

"Oh."

"I am enjoying being the casual spectator, though. Who knew lace and scales could be so endearing?" the profiler teased, a giant grin plastered over his face.

"Believe me, this is not the weirdest outfit here," Garcia said.

Morgan goggled again. "Okay, the suspense is killin' me. If it's not you, and not Emily, and definitely not Reid, then who? Anderson?"

"Well, coming in dressed like a bag lady _is_ pretty good, especially considering Anderson's a man," Reid pointed out. "But no. That's not it either."

"Did Hotch go off the deep end and lose his tie?"

There was an explosion of suppressed mirth that escaped several throats at that remark. "No. Hotch is still Hotch, even in a Hawaiian-print shirt and black jeans. Apparently it's the formal dress code in the Honolulu field office…" Emily said.

"Still, man, jeans and a loud shirt. Well, what about Henderson?" Morgan challenged, pointing towards a tall woman who, at the moment, looked like the girlfriend of the Jolly Green Giant.

"Good use of makeup, but no," Garcia said. "But she's gotten a lot of compliments, and even a couple phone numbers.

"Okay, I give up," Morgan said. "What _is_ the…"

Suddenly one of the office doors on the landing squeaked open, and the entire room fell silent. Morgan looked up towards where everyone else's eyes were staring, and nearly fell backwards in his seat. Agent Rossi was walking toward the coffeemaker, whistling some snatch of tune Morgan didn't recall, looking as though there wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Once he'd retrieved his coffee, he smiled at everyone in the bullpen and casually made his way into his office, closing the door behind him.

"Holy…" Morgan said, flabbergasted.

"See? We told you," Emily said, smiling.

"But how…?"

"Y'know, I'm not sure I even want to know," Reid said simply.

"Still, man—he came to work _naked?!_"

"Claimed it would be the strangest thing anyone would see in a government office," Emily replied. "And I have to say, I agree."

Morgan just shook his head and _laughed_.


End file.
